


Three is the Charm

by WhiteWolfCraft



Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-27
Updated: 2013-06-27
Packaged: 2017-12-16 09:04:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/860374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhiteWolfCraft/pseuds/WhiteWolfCraft
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>André is going back to his room after having played in a World Cup qualifier when he hears a strange noise,</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three is the Charm

**Author's Note:**

  * For [whimsicule](https://archiveofourown.org/users/whimsicule/gifts).



It was early in the evening when André rode the elevator up to the floor he was staying on. Most of the guys were still downstairs, talking and catching up before they had to go back to their separated clubs tomorrow. 

He was in a good mood, humming a song under his breath. They had won their World Cup qualifier easily, he even scored a brace, and his muscles had that familiar ache that came with playing a whole match. 

The elevator doors slid open with a soft ding and André walked out of the small space, fingering the key-card in his pocket. His room was at the end of the hall where his laptop laid waiting with a good film. He was tired from the match and had excused himself downstairs, taking the teasing in stride. 

A muffled noise, coming from the room on his right, distracted him and he paused, turning his head to the right. A door was ajar and André frowned, that was Mario’s room number. He frowned harder when he realised he hadn’t seen the midfielder since they returned to the hotel after the match. Which was strange, Mario usually loved spending time with the other players before their clubs separated them again. 

Another muffled sound came from the room and André took a couple of steps forward, hesitating for a second before pushing the door open. The room was the same a copy of his, meaning he had to walk through the narrow hallway with the entrance to the bathroom and a wardroom before he was in the actual room. 

The view that met him made him freeze on the threshold, mouth dropping open and eyes going wide as his mind went blank. 

Mario. On the bed. With Marco. Wearing nothing but boxers. Kissing. Rubbing against each other. Hands roaming over naked skin. Moans echoing through the room. 

André wobbled on his suddenly unstable legs and he reached an arm out, nails scraping over the wall as he  sought for a grip. The two men on the bed hadn’t noticed him entering, too focused on each other to take note of their surroundings. 

André knew he should turn around and walk away, close the door behind him and go to his own room, watch the film he wanted to watch. He should look away, go away and never speak or think about it again. This was a private moment and he shouldn’t be intruding on them like this. 

André knew he should do all that but he just couldn’t. 

The view was too good to look away from, and André’s heart was beating faster than normal, his breathing short and quick, lust clouding his mind and making his muscles tremble and shake. 

André’s breath hitched and blood rushed down when Marco left Mario’s mouth, sliding down and latching his lips on a nipple, sucking and licking. André could see flashes of a pink tongue flicking out, teasing the erect nipple, making Mario moan so loud that André could feel the sound vibrating through his body, sending shivers down his spine. 

He felt himself growing hard and he really should get out of here, go back to his own room and jerk himself off. No, he shouldn’t be jerking off. He should watch that film on his laptop. Yes, that is what he should do. 

But his legs refused to do what his mind told them to, were rooted on the spot while Marco travelled lower and lower, licking and biting his way down Mario’s chest, making the midfielder writhe on the bed, his hands buried in Marco’s hair, his grip so tight André could see his knuckles turning white. 

It was too much for André and the logical part of his brain that was telling him to get out of here was silenced by the lust that clouded his mind and set his body on fire. He palmed himself through his sweats, biting down on his lip to keep from making sounds, the friction feeling like heaven. 

Marco was mouthing Mario’s impressive bulge through his boxer, making Mario whine and moan and curse and beg, his voice lower and deeper than normal and André gave up, digging a hand inside his sweats and boxer, a soft moan escaping his lips when he wrapped his fingers around his cock.                                                                                   

He froze, eyes trained on the bed, hoping and praying they didn’t hear him. The action on bed continued, Marco moving up Mario’s body to crash their lips together, Mario arching up, hitching a leg up and wrapping it around Marco’s hips to pull him down, deep groans rumbling from his chest as their groins rubbed against each other. 

“Fuck, Mario,” Marco muttered, voice loud enough for André to hear him, as he pulled away, leaving Mario’s lips bruised and shiny with saliva. 

“Look at you, fucking look at you,” André strained his ears to pick up the words and he bit down harder on his lip to stop from groaning, moving his hand quicker. Marco’s voice was raspy, hoarse and it unexpectedly turned André on more than he would have ever guessed. 

Marco made his way down Mario’s throat, nipping at the skin and licking the sting away before latching his lips onto that spot where André could sometimes see faint traces of hickeys. Mario tilted his head towards André to give Marco more space, his brown eyes glazed over with lust. André froze again, fear chilling his blood as the glazed look slowly disappeared, Mario’s expression going from ecstasy to a deep frown, brown eyes going wide with shock when he finally recognized André. 

Mario scrambled away from Marco, hands grabbing the blanket and trying to cover himself up as Marco sat back on his knees, looking confused at Mario before turning his head, his eyes landed on the frozen André who still had one hand down his sweats, the other gripping the wall in a painful tight grip, his own eyes wide. Marco’s eyes went almost as wide as Mario’s, fear and anger chasing the lust away and André swallowed painfully around the lump in his throat. 

“André, what?” it was Marco that spoke after a minute of staring at each other, breaking the silence in the room. It got André out of his stupor and he took his hand out of his sweats, pushing himself against the wall. 

“I’m sorry, I... the door was open and I heard something and I just... I‘m sorry!” André rambled, heart stuttering when Marco rose from the bed, walking towards him. André couldn’t help himself, letting his eyes roam over the striker’s body, skin stretched over muscles, his black boxer a sharp contrast against his pale skin. Faint red marks marred his chest and André belatedly realised those had to be hickeys. His eyes lingered on the erection showing through the boxer and André had to tear his eyes away, meeting Marco’s. He couldn’t decipher the emotions in those stormy eyes and he swallowed again, pressing himself even closer to the wall. 

Marco stopped in front of him, half a meter separating them and just looked at him, arms crossed over his chest. Mario had gotten up from the bed unnoticed and was now behind Marco, hovering slightly. 

“I... I’ll just go,” André’s voice was doing things it hadn’t done since puberty, pitched higher than normal and breaking halfway through the sentence. He made to push himself off the wall but Marco blocked his way, stepping closer and placing his hands next to André’s head against the wall, trapping him. 

“What are you doing here, André?” Marco asked, voice low, leaning in too close for comfort. 

“I... I...” André could only stutter, unable to form coherent words with Marco so close, still naked except for the boxer, smelling like sweat and sex. 

Marco moved even closer, their bodies almost flush together and André could feel his breath tickling his skin. The lust had been replaced by panic, although his erection came back to life with Marco so close to his body. 

André looked over Marco’s shoulder for Mario, hoping for some help from his friend but the midfielder was just standing there, one hand absentmindedly scratching his stomach as he look at them with a small smile on his lips. 

“Did you like what you saw?” Marco’s question was whispered, breath fanning over André’s ear and he looked back at Marco, swallowing when he noticed the striker leaned in even closer, his blond hair brushing over André’s face. 

André’s tongue was tied, his throat dry and he could only get out a startled sound, head thudding against the wall as he tried to put more distance between him and Marco’s face, away from the breath that kept tickling over his skin. 

Suddenly a hand was on his hip and André looked down, startled. A thumb brushed under his shirt, stroking the skin and André couldn’t help the moan that fell from his lips. He looked past Marco’s head, finding Mario resting his chin on Marco’s shoulder, one arm around Marco’s waist while the other was still slowly stroking André’s hip. 

André gasped when Mario grinned, that playful grin with a wicked edge to it that sent shivers down his spine and his heart racing. The hand on his hip moved away and André took a deep breath only to choke on the air when Mario placed his hand on his crotch, squeezing lightly. 

“Oh, I think he definitely liked what he saw,” Mario was still grinning and his voice tinged with mischief and André closed his eyes, trying with all his might to not let his hips buck into Mario’s grasp. 

“What should we do with him?” André’s eyes flew open again at Marco’s husky question but it wasn’t directed at him. Marco his head was turned towards Mario and the midfielder was smiling, leaning closer to Marco to whisper something in his ear. André saw Marco’s eyes widen slightly before filling with mischief, lips stretching into a grin to show his shark-like teeth. A bad feeling settled in André’s stomach and he tried to move away but he was still trapped between Marco’s arms, Marco’s body and the wall against his back. 

“Na-ah, no trying to escape,” Marco grinned, pressing his body against André’s, nudging André’s legs apart with his thigh so they are flushed against each other, chests pressed together, Marco’s groin pressed against his, trapping Mario’s hand between them. André could feel Mario’s other arm, that was still wrapped around Marco’s waist, digging into his stomach. 

“What... what are you doing?” he asked, finally finding his voice again, only stuttering over the first word. 

“Well, we’ve always wanted to try a threesome but couldn’t really find someone suitable. But the way you were jerking off while watching us gave us the impression you wouldn’t mind,” Marco was close now, so close, head tilted slightly so their noses wouldn’t bump together. 

“What?!” André got a scandalized squeak out before Marco closed the distance, pressing their lips together, tongue flicking out and prying André’s lips apart so he could deepen the kiss. 

André froze for a couple of seconds, eyes going wide and heart painfully skipping a beat before responding, closing his eyes and answering the kiss, moving his stiff arms, letting his hands rest on Marco’s hips. Marco pulled back slightly, pressing his lips together to stop the kiss and André let out an embarrassing whine, leaning forward to follow Marco’s lips. 

A hand on his shoulder pushed him back against the wall and André opened his eyes again. Marco was grinning and Mario was laughing softly, although it sounded more like giggling. 

“I think he doesn’t mind,” Mario whispered, nuzzling behind Marco’s ear, eyes trained on André who was gasping a little from all the delicious sensations. The midfielder grinned before tightening his grip on André’s cock, the movement so unexpected that André bucked his hips forward, against Marco’s groin, pulling a surprised moan out of Marco at the contact. 

“Oh, he doesn’t mind at all,” Marco turned his head, capturing Mario’s lip for a sweet kiss that quickly turned dirty, Marco twisting his body towards Mario, tangling one hand in Mario’s hair and tugged. André let out a soft groan, so turned on from watching the kiss, and bucked his hips into Mario’s hand, needing some friction badly. 

Mario broke to kiss to look at André, slowly starting to run his fingers over André’s length, teasingly light touches and André groaned again, leaning his head back against the wall and closing his eyes, rolling his hips against the fingers and Marco’s groin. His hands were still resting on Marco’s hips and he pulled the striker closer so he could rub against him, his grip tightening when he heard Marco moan softly. 

Lips brushed over his and André surged forward, capturing Marco’s lips in a hard kiss, taking one hand off the striker’s hip to tangle it in that blond hair, pulling him closer so their chests were together again. He let his other hand slide from his hip to Marco’s back, finding Mario’s body pressed against Marco and moved his hand over to Mario’s back, pulling him forwards so Marco was sandwiched between them. 

Marco broke the kiss, looking with widened eyes at André and Amdré grinned, feeling like he finally had some control over this situation. He started the kiss this time, pressing their lips together and nipping at Marco’s lips until he opened them, letting André dominate the kiss. 

They broke apart panting, André grinning wildly at Marco. 

“So, you mentioned a threesome?” he asked, trying to keep his voice innocent, excitement rushing through his veins when Marco grinned at him, matching the mischievous grin of Mario who was still letting his head rest on Marco’s shoulder. 

“Hmm, I think we did. You wanna?” Marco wriggled his eyebrows in a ridiculous way, making André laugh sharply. He moved closer to Marco, letting his lips trail over Marco’s cheek before reaching his ear, tugging on his earlobe playfully. 

“You bet I wanna,” he breathed in Marco’s ear, grinning at the groan Marco let out. 

“Then we better move to the bed,” Mario whispered loud enough so André could hear him too, taking his hand off André’s cock after one last squeeze that has André bucking his hips forwards, grinding against Marco. 

Mario stepped away from Marco, André’s hand sliding off his back, and pulled Marco with him, Marco following willingly. Mario spun Marco around, placed one hand on Marco’s hip and the other in Marco’s neck before pulling the striker towards him, crashing their lips together. Marco’s arms flew up, hands roaming over Mario’s back to pull him closer. Mario let his hand from Marco’s neck slide higher until he could grip the blond strands, tugging on them to make Marco submit to him. 

André was still leaning against the wall, mouth open as he stared at the kiss in front of him. Mario was practically devouring Marco and Marco let himself be dominated by the smaller man, hissing a bit when André noticed a flash of white teeth biting down on Marco’s lip. 

Marco’s pale skin stood out against Mario’s tanned skin and André really wanted to find out what their skin tastes like, itched to run his tongue over them and sample every taste he could get. 

Mario pulled away, lips swollen, and whispered something in Marco’s ear, giving him a little push when Marco kept staring at him with glazed over eyes. Marco shook his head, the glazed look disappearing and he turned around, disappearing into the hallway. 

André followed him with his eyes and was startled to find Mario right in front of him when he turned his head back, not having heard him walking closer. Mario reached out, gripping the fabric of his shirt and smiled at him, making André’s heart melt. He always had had a thing for the younger man but knew now there would never be something between them, not after seeing the way Marco and Mario looked at each other. 

Mario leaned in closer, pulling the fabric of his shirt up, sliding a hand over André’s exposed torso, the skin warm and soft and rough from calluses. André could barely suppress a moan, the simple touch  sending his nerves on fire. He faintly registered the sound of a door closing and a lock being turned and a small part of his mind figured out that that must have been what Marco went off to do. 

“Let’s get this off, yeah?” Mario breathed, sliding both hands under the shirt, forcing André to lift his arms up so Mario could slip the shirt off. Mario took a step back, tossing the shirt away and looking André’s body up and down, lust darkening his brown eyes and André shivered, partly from the cool air in the room, partly from Mario’s burning gaze on him. 

Mario smirked when he noticed the shivering and André felt a blush coming. The midfielder took a step forward again, hooking a finger around the band of André’s sweats and pulling it away from André’s body. He grinned, mischief mixed with lust and the look in Mario’s eyes turned André on even more. 

“Off,” Mario whispered, waiting a heartbeat before letting the band snap back painfully against André’s skin, pulling a half pained, half aroused groan from André. He quickly did what Mario told him to, kicking his shoes off, taking his socks off and shoving down his sweats, stepping out of them as they pooled around his ankles. 

Mario took another step closer, ruffling André’s hair teasingly as he angled his head even closer. He brushed his lips lightly over André’s and André tried to capture them but Mario moved away, laughing softly. He let his hand slip out of André’s hair, trailing down his chest until he reached André’s boxer, again hooking his finger around the band. André’s breath hitched as he stared at the finger disappearing into his boxer and then at Mario’s face, the midfielder’s brown eyes sparkling. 

Mario tugged on the band as he started walked backwards and André followed him, eyes still trained on Mario’s face. 

Mario stopped in front of the bed, his calves pressed against the edge and André used this opportunity to swoop down and kiss Mario, framing the midfielder’s head with his hands, tiling his head back for the perfect angle. 

Mario made a sound in the back of his throat that went directly to André’s cock and André groaned against Mario’s lips, pushing the small man onto the bed. Mario let himself fall, his finger that was still hooked around André’s boxer pulling the fabric forward until it snapped back. 

“Fuck!” André cursed when the elastic band hit his skin painfully. Mario smirked at him from where he was laying and André growled, climbing on top of the midfielder, straddling his hips and hovering above him, hands placed next to Mario’s head. 

Mario was still grinning and André decided to kiss that grin away. He leaned down and pressed their lips together again, Mario’s hands landing on his hips and pulling him down. André rolled his hips and grinned in victory when he heard Mario moan. 

“Starting without me?” Marco suddenly asked behind them, a hard edge to his voice and André broke the kiss, panting as he sat up, looking over his shoulder. Marco was standing on the threshold and the sight of him holding condoms and lube in his hands sent bolts of lust to his crotch. 

Marco stalked across the room and crawled onto the bed next to Mario, glancing at André before leaning down and kissing Mario hard and forcefully, André could hear their teeth click together. The kiss had a hint of possessiveness in it and Mario moved his hands from André’s hips to claw at Marco’s back, pulling him closer and forcing André to shift off Mario. 

André didn’t mind, contend to just watch the utter hotness of Mario and Marco together. They were pure magic on the pitch, a connection so good they could find each other without trouble, without looking even. But this, this went beyond magic. This was pure and undiluted sex. They were both impossibly hot in their own ways, Marco pale, skin stretched over wiry muscles and his shark-like grin, all sharp edges while Mario was tanned, soft skin hiding strong muscles and sparkling eyes filled with mischief, soft edges with rough patches. 

André groaned when Marco dug a hand into Mario’s boxer, pulling a moan from the midfielder, and André rolled onto his back, palming himself before digging his hand in his boxers, jerking himself off slowly, watching how the fabric stretched over his hand as he moved it up and down. 

He was lost in his own world for a couple of minutes, entranced by the movement of his hand, the stretching of the fabric and the lust coursing through his veins. His lips were digging into his lower lip, almost drawing blood and his breathing came out in quick puffs, leaving him feeling lightheaded from the lack of oxygen. 

He turned his head to the right, tearing his eyes away from his bobbing hand to look at Mario and Marco. Marco was sucking on Mario’s right nipple, Mario’s hands buried into his hair, while Mario was staring at André, brown eyes raking over his body before finding André’s blue eyes, smiling softly at him before jerking his head back a little and André got the hint. 

He took his hand out of his boxer and rolled onto his side, moving closer to Mario so he could kiss him, slow and easy, bringing a hand up to cup Mario’s cheek. The kiss was sensual and caused butterflies to flap in his stomach. André groaned and sped the kiss up, needing it to be hot and sexy so his stupid feelings wouldn’t rear their ugly heads. 

A hand trailed over his back, nails scratching his skin and André felt a hot body move over his, lips brushing his shoulder as Marco settled behind him, his chest pressed against André’s back and his mouth latching onto the skin where shoulder met neck, teeth nipping and a hot tongue licking the sting away. 

“You can have this night right now but he is mine, yeah?” Marco hissed into his ear and André stiffened, breaking the kiss and craning his neck backwards to look at Marco. The striker was looking at him, a dead serious look on his face and a fierce fire in his eyes. 

“Understood?” Marco asked again, a growl in his voice and André nodded quickly, shutting his feelings away. Marco smiled, the fierce look disappearing, replaced by a softer, gentler look like he knew what André felt. He leaned forward, kissing André softly before draping himself over André so he could kiss Mario also. 

“Hey, if you are done with threatening, can we move into a better position?” Mario asked and André turned back to him, finding Mario with a small grin on his face. The midfielder looked down to where his legs were hanging over the bed, the wooden edge biting into his naked skin. 

André turned to look at Marco, grinning when he saw the wicked look in his eyes and they scrambled to their knees, Marco climbing over Mario so he was on the other side. They shared another look before lifting Mario up together, André moving a bit before they threw Mario higher up the bed, his fall softened by the mattress and the pillows. 

Mario was laughing when he landed, surprised but overjoyed by the action. Marco crawled towards the midfielder, laying down next to him to kiss him again and André felt a little stab but ignored it, moving towards Mario too, hooking his fingers around Mario’s boxer. 

He waited until the midfielder broke the kiss to look at him, Marco doing the same, before pulling the boxer down, Mario’s erect cock jutting away from his body. André took a few seconds to admire it before bending down, wrapping his lips around the head and his fingers around the base, his other hand pressing Mario’s bucking hips down on the mattress. 

Mario moaned, long and loud, while André sucked him slowly, too slow judging by the sounds Mario let out and the hand tangling into his air, trying to push him down. André flicked his eyes up, meeting Mario’s and holding their gaze while he slowly bobbed his head up until the tip of Mario’s cock was pressed against his lips. He kept looking at Mario, waiting a couple of heartbeats before swallowing him down again, taking him in as deep as he could, his lips brushing over his fingers. 

A loud groan resounded through the room and André released Mario with an obscene popping sound, moving his hand up and down, the slide made easier by his own saliva, while he massaged his jaw with his free hand, working the ache out. 

Mario pulled on his hair, nudging his face closer to the midfielder’s cock and André looked up again, grinning wickedly before running his tongue over the erection, swirling around the head before wrapping his lips around the head, sucking him down again. 

He continued for a couple of minutes, alternating sucking Mario in with quick licks and jerking him off. Marco was kissing and licking his way down Mario body until he reached Mario’s crotch. André moved away, making place for Marco between Mario’s spread legs. The striker grabbed his neck before he could move away too far and crashed their lips together, the kiss brutal and filthy, Marco’s teeth nipping at his lips before forcing his tongue inside, dominating him. 

André pulled away panting and Marco licked his lips, groaning softly with his eyes closed, opening them again to pierce André with a lustful look. 

“You taste like him,” Marco whispered hoarsely, eyes flickering to Mario and back to André. André shivered at the words, cursing under his breath and surged forward to kiss Marco again. He moved closer to the striker, rubbing against him to get some relieve for his own erection, his groans muffled by Marco’s lips. 

“Hey, can I get some attention here?” Mario’s voice broke through the haze of lust in André’s mind and he broke away from Marco’s sinful lips, looking at Mario. The midfielder was jerking himself off, biting his lower lips, eyes trained on Marco and him. 

“Why, didn’t you enjoy the show?” André asked, a teasing lilt to his voice and Mario groaned, speeding up the movement of his hand. 

“Maybe we should give him a better show,” Marco suggested, sharing a look with André before slapping Mario’s hand away, wrapping his own hand around the cock, twisting his wrist in a way that made Mario moan, eyes rolling back into his head and his body arching up from the mattress. 

“Fuck, that’s hot,” André whispered, eyes trained on the writhing Mario as he slowly bent down, latching his lips onto the base of Mario’s cock. 

“I know, he can get me so hot by doing that,” Marco replied, voice still hoarse, as he too bent down, pressing his own lips against the tip of Mario’s erection, André shifting a bit so they both had enough space to pleasure Mario. The midfielder’s hands blindly found their way into André’s and Marco’s hair, tugging on it so hard that André winced from the pain. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Mario panted, petting André’s hair in apology. André nodded as best as he could with his tongue and lips working on the base, bringing the midfielder closer to the edge. Marco concentrated on the head, sucking Mario in and then releasing him again to trace the veins with his tongue. 

André moved up, nudging Marco away so he could suck Mario in as deep as he could, suppressing his gag reflex as the head of Mario’s cock brushed against the back of his throat. He swallowed, pulling a loud moan from Mario, before releasing him, taking deep breaths. He moved to the side, letting Marco back between Mario’s legs. He sidled up next to Mario, running his fingers through the midfielder’s hair, petting him absentmindedly as he watched how Marco went down on Mario. 

It was a glorious sight, Marco working on Mario, taking him in slowly, pink lips shiny with saliva, stretched around Mario’s girth. Fingers were wrapped around the base, stroking what he couldn’t take in. Marco pulled back up, agonisingly slow and Mario whined. 

André bent down to kiss Mario on the lips, muffling the sounds he was making. He let a hand slide down Mario’s sweat slick chest, over the quivering muscles in his stomach before landing on the jutting bone of his hip. He pressed down after hearing Marco choke, keeping the midfielder’s bucking hips pinned to the mattress. Marco pulled off to look up, moving up to press a kiss on the back of André’s hand as a quick thanks before flattening his tongue, licking from the base up to the head. 

“Fuck, Marco, stop or I’m gonna come,” Mario groaned after a few minutes, tugging on Marco’s hair to pull him off his dick. Marco followed Mario’s hands, pulling off with a pop and licking his lips. 

“That good?” He drawled, crawling up Mario’s body, draping himself over Mario’s torso. He was grinning, supporting himself above the midfielder. 

“Shut up, your ego is big enough,” Mario grinned back, voice still breathless. He leaned up, bringing their lips together and Marco let himself drop down, pressing Mario into the mattress. André manoeuvred himself as close as possible, letting his hands roam over whatever he could reach, sliding over hot skin, scratching gently with his nails. 

He was trailing kisses down Marco’s shoulder, caressing the skin with his lips, when he heard Mario whisper something. He lifted his head when he felt Marco shift slightly and moved away when Marco rolled off Mario. The striker got to his knees and reached out to André, pulling him closer to kiss him breathless. 

“Remember, he is mine,” Marco whispered and André blinked, looking confused at the striker. Not for long as Mario pulled André down, André moving so his body covered Mario’s. He stared at the smiling Mario underneath him and leaned down, pressing their lips together again. 

He simply couldn’t get enough of Mario, the midfielder tasted wonderful and felt amazing under his hands, simply amazing. André ground his hips down, moaning softly at the friction. 

He had forgotten about Marco and was startled when firm hands stroked down his back before cupping his arse, rubbing gently. André broke the kiss with Mario and looked over his shoulder. 

Marco was behind him, massaging his arse, fingers sneakily pulling his boxer down inch for inch. Their gazes locked and Marco paused, looking back, emotions playing in his eyes. The striker slowly pulled the boxer down, running his fingers lightly over the exposed skin before spreading his cheeks slightly, running a finger down his crack. 

“Is... is this okay?” Marco’s voice croaked, the air thick with tension and Mario stilled underneath André, Mario’s hands that had been running down his ticklish sides pausing. 

“I... yeah. Yeah,” André nodded after thinking over it and Marco showed him a blinding smile, causing butterflies to flap in his stomach, something that had never happened with Marco before. Mario used a hand to cup his cheek and turned his face back towards him. 

“You don’t have to,” Mario told his softly, thumb stroking his cheekbone and André melted at the gentle motion. 

“But I want to,” André whispered back and Mario showed him the same blinding smile Marco did. André smiled back and leaned down to brush their lips together. Marco continued massaging his arse, fingers brushing over his entrance but never pushing in. André groaned, pulling away from Mario’s addicting lips to press his forehead against the midfielder’s shoulder, pushing his arse back against Marco’s fingers, trying to get the striker to give him more. The striker chuckled and slapped his ass slightly, causing his hips to ground down on Mario’s groin in reflex, a groan muffled against the midfielder’s shoulder. 

“Oh, you like that, hmm?” Marco asked and André could just hear the cheeky grin in his voice. 

“Maybe,” André grunted, knowing he was blushing. A hand trailing through his hair and he looked up, finding Mario smiling down at him. The midfielder looked composed, too composed for someone who was about to have a threesome. André ground his hips down again and grinned when he noticed Mario’s eyelids flutter close for a second before opening again. He wasn’t as composed as he looked, making André feel better about the shameless moans he had uttered. 

He started to kiss Mario’s shoulder, tongue tracing over his collarbone before moving higher, trailing kisses over Mario’s throat, the midfielder turning his head to expose his neck, offering more skin for André to kiss and lick. 

Marco spread his cheeks apart again, fingers brushing over his asshole again before a hot tongue ran over his entrance, leaving a burning trail of saliva behind. André moaned against Mario’s skin as he shivered, hips bucking and his hands grabbing a fistful of sheets to try and centre himself, blood rushing down to his cock and lust clouding his mind, making him feel lightheaded. 

He came aware of a hand petting his hair as Marco continued rimming him after manhandling him into a better position, his knees on the outside on Mario’s thighs, arse lifted in the air for better access. 

“He is good, isn’t he?” he heard Mario ask but he could only nod against the midfielder’s hot skin, breath coming out in quick pants. 

“God, he can keep it up for hours,” Mario continued, voice hoarse and his fingers tugging a little on André’s hair. “Making me beg and beg before he lets me come. Fuck, he can make me come only using his tongue.” the midfielder groaned, rolling his hips upwards for friction. André lifted himself up on trembling arms to crash their lips together, shutting Mario up before his dirty talk made him come, the combination of Mario’s low voice, hoarse and dripping with pure sex, and Marco’s hot slick tongue on him almost too much. 

Marco pulled away and André groaned, pushing his arse back but meeting only air. He broke the sloppy kiss with Mario to look over his shoulder, involuntary shuddering when he spotted Marco slickening his fingers with lube, the moisture glistering in the light. The striker noticed him looked and slowly licked his lips, showing him the tongue that had been in his arse only moments ago. 

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck,” André mumbled, eyes following how that tongue wetted pink lips. Hands turned his head back to Mario and the midfielder pulled him down by his neck, sliding their lips together again, hands running down his back before cupping his arse, spreading his cheeks. A wet finger grazed over his entrance and André whined against Mario’s lips. 

“So wanton,” he heard Marco chuckle before the finger pushed in, sliding in deep without any resistance, Marco’s tongue having loosened him up. André pulled away from the kiss, panting for breath as he pressed his forehead against Mario’s, eyes squeezed shut. 

The last time he bottomed for anyone was almost a year ago and the intrusion felt weird, unfamiliar. He tensed up slightly and Marco started kissing his spine to help him relax, Mario’s hands rubbing up and down his arse in soothing circles. 

“Move, please,” he ground out, pushing his arse back to take the finger even deeper. Marco got the hint and started to slowly open André up, crooking his finger to look for that bundle of nerves. 

Pleasure was quickly replacing the uncomfortable feeling and André moved his hips in sync with Marco’s tempo, biting on his lip to keep himself from moaning. 

Marco added a second finger, André wincing from the burning feeling of muscles being stretched, and crooked them, hitting that bundle of nerves that made André moan long and loud, his trembling arms barely keeping him up as he rolled his hips back, Marco’s fingers pressing harder against that spot.  

“Ah, found it,” Marco sounded smug and a little too pleased with himself. André tried to turn his head to snark something at him but Mario’s hands had moved from his arse back into his hair, the blond strands twirled around his fingers and refused to loosen their grip, not letting André move his head more than it was necessary to press their lips together again. 

Mario’s soft lips muffled the pained groan André couldn’t suppress when Marco pushed in a third finger and the midfielder ran a gentle hand over his back while licking a way into André’s mouth to muffle any more noises. The burn was harder to ignore this time but Marco’s fingers slowly moved in and out, pressing down on that bundle of nerves repeatedly until the burn was almost gone, pleasure overwhelming André’s nerves, making it hard to feel anything else. 

André could feel Marco shifting on the bed behind him and jolted slightly when the striker leaned over his back, erect nipples brushing over his back. Lips moved from his shoulder blade up to his ear, leaving soft but wet kisses behind on his skin. 

“Ready for more?” he whispered teasingly and André pushed his arse back, taking the three fingers deeper to show Marco that yes, he wanted more. His lips were captured and claimed by Mario and the midfielder refused to let him pull back enough to answer Marco, Mario tightening his grip on André’s hair with one hand, the other possessively resting over André’s nap, pressing down when he tried to pull away. 

Marco chuckled, his breath brushing over André’s ear, and he moved away slowly, his free hand trailing down André’s back, nails scratching faint red lines onto his skin. He kept moving the three fingers inside André slowly, pulling out far enough to tease the rim before pushing back in, making André keen, the noise muffled against Mario’s lips. 

André whined when Marco removed  his fingers, rolling his hips back and pushing his arse higher to get the friction back. The striker chuckled, lips pressing a quick and short kiss on a butt cheek before a ripping noise sounded. A very familiar ripping sound and André shivered against Mario, finally allowed to pull away from the kiss. He looked down at Mario, taking in swollen red lips and pink cheeks and groaned, pressing his forehead against Mario’s again, eyes closed and still panting for air. The midfielder looked insanely sexy like this and the sight was so tempting. 

Another noise, this time the pop of a cap of a bottle being opened, sounded behind him and André could image Marco rolling a condom on, jerking himself off to spread the lube around with slick fingers. 

“Fuck, hurry up,” he whispered, rolling his hips again in search of friction for his cock. Marco and Mario chuckled at the same time, the striker shifting on the bed, hands slick with lube framing André’s hip as the head of Marco’s cock was pressed against his entrance. 

“You want it?” Marco’s teasing voice came after André unsuccessfully tried to roll his hips back far enough to get Marco slip inside him. 

“Yes, you fucking tease, I want it,” André growled in frustration, his grip on the sheets tightening as Marco teasingly dragged his cock over André’s entrance, never pushing inside. 

“Marco,” André whined, looking over his shoulder and trying his best pleading expression, not sure if he could pull it off with his lips bruised from kissing Mario and his cheeks no doubt flushed. 

“Fuck, look at your face. God, you want it bad,” Marco uttered when he locked eyes with André, eyes widening slightly before a grin played on his lips. André whined again, rolling his hips back, making his eyes grow big and pleading. Marco groaned before gripping André’s hips harder, lining himself up and sliding inside André with one hard thrust, his pelvis flush against André’s arse. 

“FUCK!” André keened, his arms collapsing under him, burying his head into Mario’s shoulder while his knuckles turned white from the grip he had on the sheets. Marco didn’t pause to let him recover, just pulled back and thrust back in, building up a slow rhythm. 

André laid panting against Mario’s shoulder, arms trembling too much to keep himself up again. Mario was whispering in his ear, his voice low and hoarse, and André had trouble focusing on the words. 

“- and he is so fucking good at this, just knows when to speed up and how to hit that spot inside you,” Mario whispered when André pulled himself together enough to understand the words. Mario kept is up, a constant stream of dirty words, filthy suggestions that only caused to turn André on more and more, lust and want burning through his veins, pooling in the pit of his stomach and he bit down hard on his lower lip, immediately tasting the coppery tang of blood. 

He started to move in sync with Marco’s thrusts, trying to take him in deeper and he heard the striker groan behind him before Marco sped up the rhythm, changing the angle of his thrust to hit that spot inside André that made him keen again, vision blacking out as he bit down on Mario’s shoulder to muffle the sound. 

The midfielder yelped in pain and tugged painfully on André’s hair to pull him off his shoulder, an angry red mark blossoming already. Marco growled and tightened his grip on André’s hips, nails digging painfully into his skin as the striker sped up again, almost brutally pounding into André. He leaned over André again, pressing a sweat slick chest against André’s back and latching his lips and teeth on André’s shoulder, biting down hard, almost breaking the skin. 

“I told you he is mine, you don’t get to mark him like that,” the striker growled into his ear before saying something to Mario that André couldn’t catch. Mario nodded and moved up higher on the bed, settling against the headboard, his legs spread apart and his hard cock standing up proudly, tantalising close to André’s face. André didn’t need the whispered “suck him” from Marco to wrap his lips around Mario, tongue teasing the little slit, tasting the bitter pre-come, before sucking him in. 

Marco leaned back again, his nails scratching over André’s back before gripping his hips again, continuing the brutal and punishing pace from before, hitting André’s prostrate with every other thrust. 

André braced himself for the hard thrusts, moving together with Marco while trying to keep his lips and tongue working on Mario. Fingers slipped through his hair again, tugging on the end and André was convinced both Mario and Marco had an obsession with hair, judging from the way they celebrated goals together and what he had witnessed tonight. He glanced up to look at Mario, finding him with his head thrown back and his eyes closed, lower lip caught between his teeth, the image of unrefined sex. 

André groaned and swallowed Mario down again, loving the feel of the fingers in his hair tightening their grip, and the midfielder’s hips bucked up, Mario forcing himself deeper into André’s mouth. 

André let Mario use his mouth until he had to pull away, panting for breath, wrapping a hand around Mario’s cock to stroke him, matching the rhythm of Marco’s thrusts. He kissed the head of Mario’s cock, licking and sucking before swallowing him down again. 

He repeated this until Mario let out a loud moan, louder than the moans he had uttered while André was deep throating him, and the first salty and bitter drops hit the back of André’s throat. He pulled away, stroking Mario until he was done and the cock in his grip softened. He kept his eyes trained on Mario during, watching his muscle tense, quiver before relaxing, the midfielder slumping down against the headboard, fingers slipping out of André’s hair. 

“Fuck, yes,” André heard behind him and a hand wrapped itself around his own erection, stroking firmly. André bit on his lower lip, abusing it further as Marco picked up his pace, repeatedly hitting that bundle of nerves inside him. 

The heat, passion and lust building in the pit of his stomach became too much for him and André came with a shout, spilling over Marco’s hand and the sheets below him. 

His trembling arms could barely keep him up and he rested his forehead against Mario’s stomach, the midfielder’s fingers running gently through his hair. His breathing came out in quick puffs and he tried to catch his breath but it was difficult, Marco still sliding into him, André unconsciously still moving his body in sync with the thrusts of the striker. 

“Fuck,” Marco cursed, drawing the ‘u’ out as his rhythm started to stutter, his hands sliding over André’s sweaty skin, nails digging into his skin, making André hiss. 

Marco leaned over André, slamming in deep before coming with small jerks of his hips, a loud groan rumbling from his chest. He pulled out and slumped down over André’s back. The added weight of the striker was too much for André’s trembling arms and he collapsed onto the bed, head pillowed by Mario’s stomach. He felt worn out, exhausted after the match and everything that had happened when he went into Mario’s room. 

Mario’s fingers were still gently threading through his hair and André snuggled closer to the midfielder, breathing in his scent, his eyes falling shut. He felt Marco move off of him and Mario removed the hand out of his hair. The soft sounds of kissing reached his ears and André smiled against Mario’s skin. 

He rolled away from the midfielder when his heart beat was back to normal and his muscles had regained some strength back. He opened his eyes to look at Mario and Marco, the striker with his head on Mario’s shoulder, the midfielder craning his neck so they could kiss. 

The gentleness of the kiss tugged on André’s heartstrings and he got up from the bed, stretching his arms above his head and wincing when pain shot through his backside, his body not used to be on the receiving side. 

“Where are you going?” Marco’s hoarse voice asked and André turned around, finding both players looking at him, Marco propped up on an elbow, his fingers drawing abstract figures on Mario’s chest. 

“Shower. I’m kind of... sticky,” André finished his sentence, looking down his body before looking up again. Mario chuckled while Marco smirked at him and André felt a blush coming. He shrugged at them and went into the bathroom, turning the shower on. 

He cleaned himself slowly, a small part of him not wanting to wash the scent of Mario and Marco and _sex_ from his body. Lathering his body up with soap, washing the come and lube away before closing his eyes and tilting his head up towards the shower, letting the water fall on his face. 

He couldn’t believe he just had a threesome with Mario and Marco, two of his best friends, but the bruises that were already forming on his hips and the red marks that no doubt covered his back told him that what happened this night was real and not just a very vivid dream. 

“Fuck, what was I thinking?” he asked himself, shutting the shower off, letting the water roll down his body and drip onto the shower tiles beneath his feet. He hadn’t been thinking, having lost the ability to the moment he stepped over the threshold and found his friends almost naked together in bed. From that moment, lust and want had directed his every action and if André was honest with himself, he didn’t mind what happened at all. 

This might even help him get over that persistent crush he had on Mario, he mused as he towelled himself off, running fingers through his hair to style it. His head knew he didn’t stand a chance with the young midfielder, not when he had Marco, but his heart had stubbornly refused to forget his feelings for him. Tonight had given him the chance to know how it felt to have Mario tremble beneath his hands and lips and André was thankful for it but knew that this would never work between them. He didn’t even need to see the angry red marks on his back to know that Mario was Marco’s and the striker was prepared to fight for him with everything he has. 

And after watching Mario with Marco, the way they treated each other, the gentleness of their kisses and touches even in the heat of the moment, made André realise he didn’t want to break them apart. They were perfect for each other, their personalities completing each other and the way they moved and acted together, nothing could beat that. 

André would give up on Mario, tell his heart to forget about the feelings and move on, focus on his career and his club first before trying the love thing again. He nodded to himself in the mirror and stepped out of the bathroom, eyes meeting a sight that confirmed his decision he made in the bathroom. 

Mario was straddling Marco, slowly rolling his hips, hands sliding over Marco’s chest and stomach. The striker had his eyes close, hands clutching Mario’s hips as he rolled his own hips up, soft moans falling from his lips. Mario smiled when Marco moaned louder after he moved up and down and he leaned down, kissing Marco gently. When the midfielder pulled away, he whispered something that made Marco smile and whispered something back, causing Mario to kiss him again. 

The air was thick with the scent of sweat, sex and something that André couldn’t place. He knew he was intruding on a private moment, a moment they never meant for him to see. Marco’s eyes were filled with love and adoration as he looked at Mario and that look was something that stayed between lovers, the outside world having no right to witness. This was a private something between the two of them and André had the feeling they were claiming each other again after André had joined them, making sure that they still belonged to each other. 

He shook his head and tore his eyes away from the couple on the bed. He would leave them alone and face them tomorrow. He picked his clothes up, looking around for his boxers before realising that he didn’t know where Marco had thrown them after taking them off. He shrugged to himself and pulled on the shirt, sweats and socks. 

André looked back at the couple on the bed, smiling softly as he saw that they were still kissing, Marco’s hands cupping Mario’s face, the midfielder threading his own fingers through Marco’s blond hair, still rolling his hips leisurely. He ignored the jealousy tugging on his heartstrings, observed them for a few more seconds before turning around, walking towards to door and silently opening it, slipping out of the room and closing the door behind him. 

He leaned against the closed door in the empty corridor for a moment, taking a deep breath before pushing himself away, going to his own room. He stripped off his clothes, got a clean pair of boxers out his suitcase and pulled it on before slipping underneath the blankets, sleep catching up with him quickly.

* * *

His backside hurt even worse in the morning and André winced when he rolled out of bed. He took a quick shower to lessen the ache and took a few minutes to inspect the bruises Marco left behind in the mirror of his bathroom. There were visible handprints on his hips and small red grooves in his skin where Marco’s nails had dug in. He twisted his back to look at the marks on his back, ignoring the pain that shot through his back, and sighed in relieve when he saw that the marks were faint. With any luck, they would have faded away by the time Leverkusen’s training session in the evening started. He would have to be careful with changing for a few days lest his teammates notice the bruises and start asking questions he wasn’t comfortable with to answer. 

He checked the time and cursed when he saw he only had fifteen minutes to get dressed, put everything back in his suitcase and go downstairs. The coach had a final team meeting planned before everyone could return to their own clubs again, to be rivals once again until the next national call-up. 

André fixed his hair after towelling himself dry and picked a clean set of street clothes out his bag, they weren’t required to wear the clothes provided by the DFB as most players would leave right after the meeting, including André. 

He stuffed the rest of his clothes and possessions that littered the room in his suitcase and zipped it close, surveying the room one last time to make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything before stepping outside, closing the door behind him. 

He glanced at the door of Mario’s room when he passed by, wondering if Mario and Marco were still inside or already downstairs. He had no doubt that Marco had stayed the night, it didn’t look like anything could separate them when he had left them yesterday and their friendship was well known within the squad that no-one would find it strange if they left Mario’s room together. 

He was joined in the elevator by Bastian and Lukas who were chatting away to each other, hardly noticing that André was in the lift with them, only Lukas acknowledged him with a quick nod before looking back at Bastian’s rapid hand gestures as the midfielder explained something. 

He chuckled at them and leaned against the wall, staring at the changing numbers above the sliding door as they counted down until the elevator reached the ground floor. He let the other two exit first, pulling his suitcase behind him as he followed them out of the small space, putting his luggage with the rest of the bags that were in the hotel lobby before moving to where the team was gathered, lounging on the couches and chairs. 

He spotted Marco and Mario right away, the midfielder sitting on a chair and messing around with his phone while Marco was perched on the armrest, talking with Mats who was leaning against the wall. Mario occasionally glanced over at Marco and smiled softly to himself. 

André hesitantly walked closer to the two, feeling slightly nervous and not sure what to do. Should he just sit with them and talk, act as if yesterday never happened or mention it somehow. 

Before he could reach them however, someone draped a heavy arm over his shoulder and pulled him against a strong body. 

“André, please tell these two delusional morons why the Bundesliga is way better than that crappy league in Spain they got stuck in,” Manuel’s deep voice rumbled in his ear. André grinned, looking at Sami and Mesut. 

“Manuel, you are mistaken. La Liga is far superior to this league. André, tell him,” Sami replied in a fake snobbish voice, sidling against André’s free side, pushing Manuel’s arm off André’s shoulders, draping his own over it. 

“The Spanish have brainwashed you. There is no way la Liga is better than our league, no way,” André poked Sami’s side, making the older man twitch away from the tickling sensation. 

“Ha! See, I told you so,” Manuel crowed, pulling André back against his side. 

“You are all wrong,” a loud voice boomed behind André and a heavy arm leaned on his shoulder, Per’s head appearing between his and Manuel’s. “The Premier League is the best league in the world,” the defender laughed long and loud, making several people look towards them. 

Manuel gasped dramatically and turned to face Per, a hand over his heart, face consorted into a pained grimace. 

“Per, how could you betray the league that made you who you are today like that?” The keeper cried, making his eyes big and teary. 

“I saw the light, as did Poldi. Didn’t you Poldi?” Per raised his head, leaning more of his weight on André as he shouted across the room where Lukas and Bastian were still talking. The striker looked up when he heard Per and smiled at them. 

“Of course, the EPL is the best league there is! Au, Basti, what did I do?” Lukas rubbed the back of his head where Bastian had just slapped him and the midfielder was glaring at the striker. 

André shook his head as the group was now joined by Lukas and Bastian, Per bouncing over to Lukas and defending the Premier League while Bastian joined Manuel’s side to argue for the Bundesliga, Mesut and Sami occasionally inserting a comment about la Liga. 

“Idiots,” he muttered fondly as he looked past the group, spotting Mario and Marco again. The striker had just finished talking to Mats, the defender moving towards André’s group, and Marco looked back at Mario, catching the midfielder looking at him. The striker smiled and reached out to run a tender hand through Mario’s hair and down his neck, tugging slightly on the scarf Mario was wearing. 

The fabric slid down to reveal a bright red mark right on Mario’s pulse point and André blushed slightly when he saw it. Marco dragged his thumb over the hickey and Mario’s mouth fell open before he bit down on his lower lip. André was too far away to hear it but he was sure Mario had gasped when Marco did that. 

André looked away from the hickey to find Marco’s eyes trained on him, looking fierce and slightly possessive. The striker flickered his eyes to the red mark and back to André, telling him that Mario was his and his alone. André nodded to show Marco that he understood and the striker nodded back, his attention back on Mario when the midfielder slapped his hand away and fixed his scarf, scowling at the striker. Marco merely smiled, that fierce and possessive look replaced by something soft and tender as he cupped Mario’s cheek, fingers trailing over his cheekbone and across one of the midfielder’s fluttering eyelids before letting his hand drop away. Mario smiled back at him and André looked away, his heart giving a painful lurch. 

He focused on the discussion again, joining Manuel’s and Bastian’s side, risking another glance to the chair to find Mario messing with his phone again and Marco leaning back against the chair, fiddling with the zipper of his coat, his hand casually resting on Mario’s shoulder. André looked away again, the jealousy still tugging on his heart, and he sighed. It would take awhile before he was completely over his teammate but it would be for the best. 

“Time for the meeting!” Joachim called from the entrance of the meeting room, the rest of his staff gathered around him. André let the discussion group go ahead of him, chuckling as Manuel’s arguments became more outrageous every time he opened his mouth. 

“Morning!” a voice behind him said just as someone slung an arm around his shoulders. Mario appeared besides him, Marco on his other side and André had to smile at the way Mario was grinning at him. 

“Slept well tonight?” the midfielder asked, grin turned cheeky and André blushed and started to splutter. Marco draped himself against André’s side, a leering smile on his lips. 

“I bet he did,” he snickered, making André burn fiercer. 

“You two are impossible,” he muttered. 

“But you still love us,” Mario was grinning again and Marco wore a faint smile when André glanced at him. 

André wrapped an arm around Marco’s waist, the other around Mario and tugged them closer to him, smiling gently. 

“Yeah, I do love you guys,” he said softly, squeezing the players, smiling wider when they squeezed back.  He would have time to sort his feelings out later, right now he had his two best friends besides him and he couldn’t feel better.


End file.
